The morning in the Falling Leaf Sect dawned grey and damp, the persistent fog clinging to the worn rooftops and muddy paths. Xi Ran pushed himself up from the hard plank, joints protesting with audible cracks. Outside the barrack window, the world was wrapped in its usual grey shroud. Another day in the **Whispering Willow Grove**. Another day of baskets and clinging resin.
"Up! Harvest duty!" The overseer's bark cut through the barrack gloom from the doorway.
Groans rippled through the novices, but they scrambled to their feet. Trouble was best avoided. Xi Ran flexed his hands, the skin still red and tight from yesterday's resin. *At least no new cracks today*, he thought, spitting sourness onto the packed earth floor. Meet the quota. That was paramount. And maybe, just maybe, he could glean something from the overseer about acquiring herbs for the wheezing in his father's chest.
The Grove greeted them with its damp silence, broken only by the sigh of leaves and the distant call of a bird. Xi Ran made for a familiar willow, its bark split by a deep, weeping fissure – a reliable source of "Willow Tears." He pulled a vial from his belt and carefully used a sharpened splinter to coax a clear, viscous droplet from the crack. It gathered weight, threatening to fall. He positioned the vial beneath it.
***Sight!***
Not a conscious thought. More an internal *jolt*. And within the clear droplet – it *flared*. A brief, brilliant spark. Emerald light, pure and intense, like captured starlight in amber. Xi Ran froze. Sunlight? Impossible this deep in the canopy. Too vivid. He nudged the droplet with the splinter – nothing changed. Just resin, sticky and pungent. *Strange*. He captured the drop, sealed the vial, and placed it in his basket. His gaze drifted to a nearby tree, also oozing sap. The droplet there… ordinary. Clear, unremarkable.
"Hey, novice! Eyes on your work!" The overseer's shout came from the path. "Full basket by noon, remember?"
Xi Ran nodded, turning back. Focus. Work. Not staring at drops. But a connection sparked in his mind. He started seeking out trees where the resin flowed freely, seeping from *fresh* cracks in the bark. And almost invariably – within those droplets flickered that same *emerald light*. Fleeting, but undeniable. Resin from older, hardened bumps showed nothing. *Intriguing*, he acknowledged silently. But practical value? None. Perhaps it just marked the best collection spots a little faster.
***
After the harvest came the "lesson." **"The Stance of the Sleeping Heron"** under Lin Feng's predatory gaze. The senior disciple prowled among the novices frozen in the awkward posture, his cane held like a serpent ready to strike.
"Knees lower!" The cane tip jabbed the back of a knee belonging to a novice whose eyelids were drooping. A yelp, a frantic wobble for balance. "Center of gravity in the lower dantian! Breathe evenly! Feel the circulation!"
Xi Ran stood, locking his gaze onto a gnarled twig embedded in the dirt before him. His legs screamed fire, his back ached dully. *Circulation*. He strained to "feel" as instructed. Inside, only the burn of strained muscles and the heavy thud of his heart. The air around Lin Feng *was* denser, subtly charged, but Xi Ran couldn't grasp the mechanism. *Maybe I just can't feel Qi?* The thought gnawed at him. Like that other kid, seemingly as spiritually inert as a dead frog.
"You!" Lin Feng's cane suddenly pressed against Xi Ran's ribs. "What are you gawking at? Close your eyes! Concentrate *within*!"
Xi Ran flinched violently, almost toppling over. He squeezed his eyes shut. Darkness. The drumbeat of his pulse. The crushing weight in his legs. No flow of Qi. Only fatigue. And the persistent, unwelcome image – the emerald flash in the resin. Useless.
"Well?" Lin Feng stood close, radiating contemptuous expectation. "Feel anything at all, swamp grouse?"
Xi Ran remained silent. What could he say? That he saw strange lights? Lin Feng would just laugh in his face.
"Nothing?" The senior disciple's voice dropped, turning dangerous. "Slacking, then. Extra half-hour stance after dinner. All of you!"
A wave of resentful muttering swept through the novices. Xi Ran felt the prick of their accusatory stares. *Thanks, Lin Feng.*
***
That evening, after the agonizing extra stance, Xi Ran dragged his feet towards the storage shed where the baskets of "Tears" were deposited. He intercepted the overseer wrestling crates.
"Uh… Senior Brother," Xi Ran began hesitantly. "Is there… anything for a cough? For my father. Bad wheezing."
The overseer turned, his expression flat and uninterested.
"A cough?" he repeated dully. "Herbs in the storehouse. Not for novices. Deliver a month's quota *on top* of yours – then we'll talk." He slammed the lid shut on a crate. "For now – work. And don't make waves."
Xi Ran swallowed hard. A month's extra quota? Nearly impossible. He nodded mutely and turned towards the barracks, feeling the overseer's indifferent stare on his back. *So that's how it is.* Another way. He needed to find another way. Or… endure. And hope his father endured too.
***
The next day was a carbon copy. Resin harvest. Emerald flashes in fresh droplets – Xi Ran noted them almost dispassionately now. Then the stance. Lin Feng's cane and caustic remarks. That evening, Xi Ran tried again, approaching the overseer as he secured the shed. "Senior Brother… I could help unload extra supplies? After harvest? For… for anything that might help the wheezing."
The overseer merely snorted.
"Got my own work covered. Don't stick your neck out." He turned his back.
Xi Ran clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened, but said nothing. Pointless.
***
The third morning in the Grove arrived blustery. Wind whipped the willow branches into a frenzy, their rustling a loud, agitated chorus. Xi Ran worked at the base of a particularly ancient, crooked willow. Its trunk was a tapestry of deep fissures weeping generous, clear tears. His basket filled swiftly; the "Tears" here were large, frequent, and nearly every one held that fleeting emerald moment.
Suddenly, a violent gust tore through the canopy overhead. A sharp, ominous *CRACK* split the air. Xi Ran instinctively snapped his head up. High above, on the gnarled old tree, a thick, dead limb was shearing off! It plummeted downwards, snagging other branches, accelerating, hurtling straight towards him!
"*Shit!*" Panic flooded his mind. Jump? Tangled roots trapped his feet, the basket of precious vials weighed him down… He froze, ducking his head into his shoulders, bracing for the crushing impact.
***SIGHT!***
Not a thought. An *explosion* within. The world *shifted*. Not slowed. Simply… became *crystal clear*. Painfully, unnervingly precise. He saw every jagged splinter on the falling timber, every bead of resin oozing from surrounding cracks, the *trajectory* – not a direct hit, but angling slightly to the right and forward! His body reacted without conscious command. Xi Ran didn't leap back or sideways on instinct. He lunged *forward and left*, pressing himself flat against the rough bark of the trunk, into the precise spot his sudden vision showed was safe.
**CR-R-RUNCH!**
The massive branch slammed into the earth barely half a meter from his heel, throwing up a geyser of mud and shattered wood. Vials in Xi Ran's basket clattered violently but miraculously remained intact. He stood frozen, pressed against the tree, his heart hammering against his ribs like a frantic drum. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears.
"Hey! You alive?!" A novice's voice, shrill with alarm, came from nearby as someone ran towards him.
The overseer was already pelting down the path, face twisted with fury and fear. "What in the blazes?! Who's responsible?!"
Xi Ran pushed himself away from the tree, brushing clods of dirt from his tunic. He looked at the crater left by the branch, then at the spot he'd occupied seconds before. *There*. Exactly where his first instinct would have sent him. Exactly where the branch would have smashed into him.
"A branch… fell," he managed, his voice rough. "Nearly got me."
"Idiot!" the overseer roared, though the anger seemed tinged with relief now. "Watch the ground AND the sky! In this wind! Everything alright? The basket?"
Xi Ran nodded mutely, holding up the basket – dented, but whole. The overseer cursed, but his shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Right. Lucky fool. Move spots. Now! And keep your damn eyes OPEN!" He stomped off to check the others.
Novices whispered, casting glances at Xi Ran that now held a mix of awe and curiosity. The one who'd reached him first clapped him on the shoulder. "Slick move, countryman. Reflexes like a swamp cat!"
Xi Ran silently retrieved his basket. Reflexes? No. This was something else entirely. It was that ***Sight!*** It hadn't just shown a spark this time. It had shown the *path*. The exact, deadly trajectory of the branch and the precise, safe path for him. For one blinding instant.
He glanced back at the gnarled bark where he'd stood. A fresh resinous bead welled from a crack. Inside the clear droplet… the emerald light was gone. But Xi Ran *knew*. It had been there. And it wasn't just a light. It was… a key. To what? He didn't know yet. But for the first time, this strange ***Sight!*** had saved his life. Or at the very least, saved him from being crippled.
He drew a deep, shuddering breath; the scent of wet earth and willow sap suddenly seemed incredibly sharp, almost overwhelming. *Need to work*, he thought mechanically, stepping away from the tree. But something fundamental had shifted inside. The useless oddity had taken on form. Vague, undefined, but undeniably *real*. And now he understood – he needed to watch this strangeness. Closely. It might prove useful again. Especially with Lin Feng's stances, the overseer's impossible demands, or if his father's condition worsened. The odds seemed as ephemeral as those emerald flashes. But now he knew – sometimes, phantoms could become terrifyingly, wonderfully real.